


Paths Not Taken

by anesor



Series: Star Wars Snippets [15]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21681604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anesor/pseuds/anesor
Summary: Obi-Wan grows frustrated in the desert when he cannot even interact with young Luke, when he learns of another option...
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Sheev Palpatine, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Star Wars Snippets [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/930086
Comments: 20
Kudos: 270
Collections: Shadows of the Saber (NaNo 2019 Star Wars short fiction collection)





	Paths Not Taken

Qui-Gon faded away from perception, back into the shimmering heat of the Jutland Wastes. Old hurts long smoothed before his voice has been clear to Obi-Wan. More of interest were the ancient tomes that had somehow found their way to the desert of Tatooine over the last decade. The Jawas had happily traded such ‘junk’ after Ben the Wizard helped clear a cave on their migration route.

The sigil of the Order was not only faded but also very different on his latest find. It still felt of the Light, in the way the oldest holocrons once did. Kenobi felt a pang of grief for whatever the emperor did to the accumulated wisdom of the Light. But this book survived not just the late purge, but also ages.

He just wished it had more concrete advice.

Passing into the Force held little fear after so many years. He knew that he would become both more and less. More than mortal, but less able to act independently, even to aid the Light. He knew his skill in charm and negotiation had badly atrophied in the desert, but he still wanted to make a difference. Life here was an unsurprising raw and powerful force, patience a position of weakness.

These insights might have been more useful thirty years ago.

And that was the crux of this other prophetic journal. Qui-Gon had been fascinated at first by its similarity to the records of the Whils, but then uncomfortable.

Then he left, sooner than his usual.

Perhaps Kenobi had the time, or perhaps he sought another answer than the Whils’ patience and fading away. Perhaps he wanted to be the imp again with his whole life ahead of him.

But this was not something as simple as becoming a sage guardian spirit, unable to make a difference directly. Doomed to watch the good and the bad until passing from living memory ended the extension.

This Journal held the paradox of change at great cost, change only with the blessings of the Force. 

The cost was double down and of short effect and he would not be able to teach the son of his brother. That alone made his heart clench, to leave the boy without protection or even the possibility of training if his uncle finally relented.

But after a decade, he was no closer to teaching Luke than the day he arrived, still grieving. 

He worried about rumors the flight-happy boy wanted to run off to join an Imperial flight school. That was the stuff of nightmares, that name and origin would surely be caught by the bureaucracy, even if the boy had no talent.

But he did, so it would be even faster.

If he believed the new journal, the problem might be moot.

He  _ wanted _ to believe. That with reflection and wisdom, he could find a pivot point and prevent… everything. That somehow he could pick one person to save and brighten the downward spiral of the galaxy.

The list got so long without even trying, saving Anakin was almost a knee-jerk answer, with how much he still missed him. How much he still grieved how his golden boy had been warped and continued to warp into the Dark. And where or how to change that path? There would be only one chance to make the attempt. He knew whatever the opportunity would be, he would not survive that window.

He could just save Padmé, her denial could not last long and she would protect their children like the Queen she was. She thought Anakin still had good, but she was the only one to keep that faith after the Temple.

Kenobi wanted to save Satine. Cut short the madness of Maul and empower a third alternative for the galaxy than the corrupted Republic and CIS. That was still before the futile Hardeen mission and still help with Anakin as well.

Save his Grandpadawan, remind Anakin that she was still connected to the younglings who were her friends. Anakin never spent enough time in the Temple, making friends of all phases of a Jedi’s life. Playing catch up for saber and the Force was less important than… the social connections, attachments all.

He desperately  _ wanted _ to save his own Master. Cornered in the first Sith duel in a millennia. As much as he wanted Qui-Gon to make it better somehow, nothing in the Force seemed to encourage that hope. His Master discouraged his visions and encouraged the emotional distance that so soured with Anakin.

What place in Anakin’s life would change his life the most for the Light? To make him happy? Change his life enough that he would not burn on that Sith hell? When to act: slave years, Council reception, apprentice years, mother’s death, war strains, secret marriage? Or whatever trigger changed him from smiling Knight before Ultipau to snarling Sith? Was it so selfish, too selfish to want to save his Padawan, even from himself?

Master Kenobi knew there was a better choice. 

He just had to find it.

Standing, he circled inside the plain and drab hut that was his home. The walls were thick but windows perhaps too large to slow daytime heat much. Qui-Gon’s ghost was unlikely to return for several days, and Obi-Wan should collect water at dawn before it tried to evaporate again. The details of survival could not be ignored in the desert.

Now he must make the best of  _ what was. _

He sent Bail a message through careful channels, perhaps he knew of another to take over with Luke who would not be so hated by Owen if Obi-Wan failed again in this desperate hope. Out in the galaxy, maybe he knew where Ahsoka was or another survivor. 

But Obi-Wan’s General days were past him now, his health and strength were scoured to the bone. He could do little to direct a rebellion. He might help with strategies, be an example that Jedi had suffered too… But  _ he _ would drive Vader into greater madness for revenge, even if he thought that was a short journey. He could not lead even as well as Dooku’s age proved during the war. He should be retired and teaching classes and maybe the creche, boring younglings with stories of a silly, silly war. 

He needed to fight the Dark one more time, that his path had not been futile.

His heart heavy when his daily meditation ended, he knew that he would never teach Luke while Owen lived. Owen was only middle-aged. Perhaps delivering him to kin had been a mistake. He had planned too much on the goodwill of estranged family. It was more than time to choose another path before he was a skeleton in the desert.

Who or what, when changed by one aging, Jedi master would remake this universe? He had to hope it would be a better one, he would never know.

Early the next day he settled in the coolest hours of the desert, the closest he could find to the controlled environment of the lost Temple. Meditation on the unifying force, the tapestry of the dimmer Force would teach him what he needed to know.

Settling his aching joints Kenobi steadied his breathing and detached from tangible reality to understand more… to find a compassionate answer and heal the fractured and bleeding Light.

He rose. He floated on eddies and currents across the stars of the galaxy. Worlds in agony, peoples that endured, fortunate worlds where life still thrived- unaware of Sith Empire. Time passed without notice as he sought the pull of the answer he wanted.

He might recognize the green of Naboo or the brief and embattled wastes of Mandalore, but he kept returning to the center, the capital where the fiery presence of one Sith was cruelly balanced by the cold abyss of the other. He might skitter away like some rodent to avoid detection, wondering if stopping Maul at the start would shift several paths, but he did not know… that did not feel like what the Force encouraged as he appeared over the Imperial palace yet again.

His heart’s home and where his deepest attachment still burned.

Deep in the Force, fear and even longing were far away as he sought enlightenment.

_ -Padawan, be sure. All things are possible in the Force, but you will cease to exist- along with all you have accomplished, and done so well.- _ Only Qui-Gon’s presence was clear- and perhaps grieving.

Grief swelled from Obi-Wan’s bottomless supply.  _ -Is that so much to lose? So many mistakes? So many lost opportunities. What is the line between patience and imprisonment? The darkness in the galaxy seems as large as the weight on one sunshine soul.- _

_ -The Force will provide...- _

Obi-Wan could not turn to face a formless presence.  _ -It may provide, but it has been over a decade already. I question if the weight of being a Chosen One will do any better with the son than it did for the father. If it took many failures to get us to today, where is the foundat…?- _

_ -I have been so proud of you, Obi-Wan.- _ His Master’s presence felt almost physical, brushing his cheek one last time.  _ -I will not be able to advise you anymore, but may the Force be with you.- _

A few more breaths watching the smothered Lights in the Imperial capital, and Obi-Wan was gone.

* * *

He woke in the hospital of Theed, aching at the substantial shift in humidity. He was hooked up for fluids in calm.

When he moved to sit up, a droid sensor chirped and a young healer rushed in.

“Master Jedi, we have been very worried. The Palace would be delighted to provide any assistance with your mission...” She scanned the sensors and offered him a drink of cool water.

Obi-Wan sipped through the straw with a new appreciation for this plenty. When his throat seemed less parched, he spoke for the first time aloud in a long time, no matter how one measured it. “No formal mission, I am afraid. The Force called me to come here now.”

“We were concerned when you were found, collapsed on the Queen’s Mall. We do not allow our people to dehydrate or become as malnourished. And worse that you are a Jedi is such terrible health. I am quite uncomfortable with seeing such scarring on a protector.”

Obi-Wan tried to put her at her ease. “No matter, it was long ago now and better forgotten.” He paused, an old uneasiness warring with the calm around him. “Best I get treated and return to my duty.”

Not suspicious as Temple healers had gotten, Obi-Wan was released early the next morning to breathe the cool air and Light shimmering, intoxicating around him.

A lack of resources did not truly bother him, he had lost that reliance years ago now. His feet wandered until he found a park where young children played under the watchful eyes of family or nannies.

Joints aching after that long a walk where some people looked askance at his worn robes, the park became more crowded before a young mother brought her daughters to take a break and drink from juice bottles.

When the two older girls moved away to weave ribbons between their fingers in precise weavings, the mother finally spoke carefully. “Master Jedi, is there a problem here on Naboo, in this park?”

“No, no. I’ve had no formal missions for seeming years. I am on leave, unless there is an emergency or some other urgency. I am just enjoying the warm and kind sunshine today. Naboo is a lovely world, with fine educational opportunities.”

The woman brightened and started telling him about local schools she was considering, good and bad as the youngest fell asleep against her. He let it wash over him, absorbing it with only part of his attention as when it had been Cody.

The Force told him to wait again.

A hound of some kind was pulling on a leash as a woman yelled at a child who was pulling on the other direction. The noise spiked, leading the anger peak as the woman yanked the dog and hit the child. Both were afraid, the fear spiking strongly in the Force around the boy.

The mother on the bench hissed in an under voice. “Not again. I don’t know why some people think having a child will be easy.”

Obi-Wan was more disturbed than he liked, watching the child have a meltdown as he was dragged away. The fine and perfectly styled navy clothing now alarming. “She does this regularly?”

Snorting, the mother met Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Nearly every day. But her husband and family are in the defense forces; he was a hero of a blowout or something and is very, very proud of his heir, even if he’s never home as he keeps getting promoted. I fear what will happen if they have more children.”

Carefully, Obi-Wan suggested, “Can nothing be done? It seems a clear case of abuse, even if it was just the dog. For a child...”

The woman looked sadly at him. “Several of us have reported them for neglect and abuse, but the repercussions were both political and physical. They are each unworthy in the Goddesses’ eyes.”

Answers he was not expecting to find like this. “Madame, I would appreciate your direction, and perhaps others who might testify. The Force surely brought me here.

The corroboration of several parents and cooperation of child advocates made the blood test and removal of the curly-headed boy to a Jedi’s custody straightforward. Eventually a hearing with an unfamiliar and young queen ended the dispute with a reprimand in the father’s career.

Finally, Obi-Wan was left alone with a toddler Sheev and court advocate. “Hello there, youngling. Do you know what I am?”

“You’re a Jedi an you’re _mean._ You took me away from Ruffles!”

Saddened a little that the dog was more important than family, Obi-Wan sent warmth as he looked at the advocate.

“Ruffles is going to live with other puppies where no one will hurt him.” She soothed the curly moppet as well.

The four year old’s eyes watered. “Can I go with  _ Ruffles?” _

“No,” the woman started to say.

But Master Kenobi interrupted. “You will be going to live with other children like you in a school. You will be able to play and learn without anyone hitting you like Ruffles was hurt. You are a bright boy and will make many friends there.” He played the high card that made his Grandpadawan laugh once. “I’m sure there will a new litter of tooka to make friends with...”

Thoughts of the Chancellor were dim and far away now.

The boy brightened a little at that.

A few days later and passage to Coruscant was arranged, most on board thought they saw a resemblance of an older father and young son from the hair color. He had wanted to avoid making contact with the Order until he was face to face. He had no history or influence now, so choosing who to approach filled his few resting hours of the two week flight from Naboo.

Obi-Wan stepped off the rail closest to the main Temple entrance, carrying the drowsy boy. 

His eyes watered to see the Temple again, rising bright and pure and clean again.

Sheev burrowed closer. “Don’ be sad Ben. We can share the tooka.”

Cradling his hair with shaking fingers. “Thank you, dear one. I am happy to be home after after a long time away.”

The boy leaned his presence into Obi-Wan, but remained quiet.

Walking up to the archway, he stopped at the guardians to check in, and was a little surprised when he was waved through. Normally the creche should be the first stop after a successful Search, but they might have too many questions and not willing to log the caution.

Moving to the public directory, he was in luck as his target was in Temple. He barely needed the direction, so strongly was the Force pulling him. Soon, he was knocking at the door for the Master’s quarters.

The Master opened the airlock door after a short delay, surprise and confusion hidden behind his mask. “Master… I am afraid we have not met before.” When he noticed the youngling, he softened.

“Master Koon, I have brought this youngling in on Search. But I am concerned about his future and would feel better if you would oversee him. I do not want my status to distract from his care...”

The Kel Dor was uneasy at his evasion, but his ease with children made his arm twitch to take the boy. “Search? The parents gave permission?”

“A case of abuse, Master. I have information on a data stick, but it involved authorities up to the queen of Naboo…” He knew Plo was not easy to fool, even if truths needed hidden. “If you would like to review the data or contact their Senator first. Diplomatic dispatches would have easily arrived before us. I will explain anything you want as soon as he is safely in the Creche.”

“He was missed at birth?”

“Sire was ambitious. I have Seen he will be a duelist without compare...” Kenobi throttled his desperation to have the boy enter the Creche smoothly and make a better family.

The Master urged him to a sitting area and moved to a table to examine the data and comm the Senate,

Kenobi petted the sleeping boy, slipping into a meditation. He did not know how much longer he had.

“Calm yourself, Master. We will take the child over and then we will talk about your harsh presence.”

Every step toward the Creche and its Masters was another weight from his shoulders. Even the spotting of future Master Dolan as a Padawan reassured him. He stayed with the boy until he met with his new age-mates over the petting zoo and the boy’s careful happiness.

Every time that happened he felt an internal jolt.

But now he was tired, so tired and feeling even more stretched thin. Could he, would he join the Force before his Master had learned about it?

Master Koon led him away from the Creche and he wondered not the first time about his Lineage in this time.

Soon he found himself in a meditation room with the other Master, who said gravely, “The youngling is safe in the Creche and now I would appreciate some answers, Master Ben.”

Obi-Wan knelt, seeking calm one last time. When he held up his shaking hands, the light passed right through him. “There is no record of me as I will not yet be born for another twenty-three years.” He paused to steady his breath. “The Sith returned, and wiped out the Order. We on the Council were too detached and pawns of the Sith in the Senate in a war… I know you care for all younglings… Save them.”

Kenobi said goodbye to Cody and the Wolfpack in his heart as it got harder to breathe again, “But that boy needs the Light, please make sure he feels it…” Vision fading, Kenobi’s eyes watered as his thoughts flew to his lost orbit. “My poor Padawan, my brother… he wanted to save everyone and he couldn’t save… himse...”

Master Koon jerked when the worn robes collapsed in on themselves, leaving only two very worn light sabers that still echoed of their owners in the Force.

* * *

_ Years flew by. An Initiate becomes a Padawan, competing with young Windu and Jinn under the stern eye of Masters like Dooku. The Knight becomes a Master of Niman and a terror at dueling almost as much as his honeyed tongue at smoothing negotiations. A friend who consoles his friend when du Crion Falls and encourages renewal. The Sith Master is exposed and Opress taken for healing, until the universe is fully changed with the reemergence of a new generation Team, whose blades already rest in the Archives as a mystery of the Force. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> – I had to do it, a story with sympathy for the devil. But by the time we meet him he’s had nearly five decades of the wrong lessons… “You gotta be taught to hate… very carefully taught” to reach that level of destruction.
> 
> And yeah, Obi-Wan would be his usual self-sacrificing sot if he could have done this. And while he doesn't reap the results directly, it still is a victory. (and another fic that left me teary writing it 🥺🥺😭)
> 
> \---  
> Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and Disney. I make no profit from this fanfic and no infringement is intended.


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